


i know, it goes on, it gets old

by segmentcalled



Series: close the door, hold the phone, show me how [2]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous italics, Hair-pulling, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 05:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/segmentcalled/pseuds/segmentcalled
Summary: After the initial coming together, double entendre fully intended, there's more to take care of, more conversations to be had, now that they're in a better place to talk and to listen.





	i know, it goes on, it gets old

**Author's Note:**

> _so often i call and i plead with you:_  
>  _give me a chance,_  
>  _it's not often that i understand_  
>  _the ins and the outs of what's wrong and what's right._  
>  _don't think of tomorrow tonight_  
>  \- [light a roman candle with me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKoBTEcq8Ck), fun.
> 
> i wasn't going to write a sequel but then i went on a twitter ramble to the tune of:  
> [thinks about how brian being openly verbally/physically affectionate would like rock pat's whole world in this au] [thinks about brian being used to being 'too intense' and being delightfully surprised when the things that made him too much to handle for other partners are the exact things being sought after by pat] goddammit i have to write this now don't i
> 
> anyway. set late-afternoon on the same day as the first installment ends. let's go

"I can’t believe you didn’t know I’m gay,” Pat says, collapsing onto the freshly-made bed. He’s already officially decided that Brian is good for him; he helped him do laundry, for fuck’s sake.

“Pat, baby, how the ever-loving fuck would I have known such a thing?” Brian says kindly. He’s smiling, and his tone is gentle. “What else do I not know about you?”

“I have a cat?”

“I knew that, you dumbass, I’ve seen him like five times today,” Brian says fondly, curling up next to Pat, slinging an arm over his torso. “Apparently I missed an entire divorce and an entire sexuality, though, so I don’t think it’s an entirely outrageous question.”

“Fair enough,” Pat says. Brian puts his head on Pat’s chest, right above where he feels that core of anxiety nigh constantly. Pat runs his fingers through Brian’s hair and Brian sighs, eyes closing in contentment. “I, uh. I dunno, really, I can’t even think of what else you might be missing. My phone passcode?” he says, half-joking — he does, in fact, still know Brian’s. Which is actually maybe kind of weird, now that he thinks about it.

“Dork,” Brian says. He searches for Pat’s free hand and pulls it to his lips, presses a light kiss to his knuckles.

“Seriously, though, I really — if you’ve got questions for me, you can go for it.” He twirls a strand of Brian’s hair around his index finger. “I don’t mind.”

“You looked scared as shit when I asked if you were gay last night,” Brian says.

“Yeah, ‘cause I was scared as shit that I’d accidentally said something stupid and propositioned you. Which, well. Happened anyway, but it seems to be alright.”

“Man, how long have you been into me?” Brian says, with a smile that’s almost shy.

“Too fuckin’ long,” Pat says with a sigh. “You’re beautiful, you know that? It kills me when you so much as smile. I never dreamed you’d want me, too.”

“Oh my god, Pat Gill. I cannot believe — your fucking _jawline_ , first off, and how stupid good you look with a beard and long hair, and — and, god, the way you look at me. I thought that was just how you looked at everyone, that you’re just real intense, but — that’s not quite it, is it?”

Pat, a little sheepish, admits, “Well, I am real intense, you’re not wrong on that count. I seem to have been told by exes that I’m, uh, ‘high-maintenance,’ if they’re being nice about it, or ‘needy,’ if they’re... not so much.”

“That’s stupid,” Brian says. “There’s nothing wrong with either of those adjectives. There’s nothing to feel bad about for needing your partner to show they care about you. That’s fuckin’ — that’s basic human nature. I kinda get the same thing, though, not gonna lie. I’m ‘a lot,’ apparently.”

“You can’t possibly be worse than me. You saw my” — he waves a hand vaguely — “my whole deal last night and you’re still here for some reason.”

“That’s not a matter of ‘worse!’ There’s no such thing. You’ve been _lonely_. That’s _okay_. I’m more than happy to — to heap affection on you constantly. That’s how I roll. That’s my basic setting, as a partner. I love it. I’m cuddly and effusive and I never shut up and maybe my ex was annoyed that I texted them too much but you know what? I don’t give a shit, ‘cause it’s okay to — to _exist_ in the way that’s most comfortable for you. And it seems like we might have really compatible, uh, ways of showing affection, given the evidence?”

“That would be a nice coincidence,” Pat murmurs. “First time I’ve had that. My wife was not super — uh — demonstrative, which — y'know. That’s fine, and understandable, and anyway I was still in the process of figuring out I was gay. Oh, don’t make that face, as it turned out she was a lesbian and we were both just absolutely disastrously matched, and dealing with some _serious_ internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality. The breakup was mutual and pretty amicable; I mean, we were pretty fuckin’ emotionally distant from each other for a long goddamn time. But that was a relationship I was in for ten years. We were, what, seventeen? When we started dating.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Brian says.

“I know. So we never really got the chance to explore our real identities until we split. I’ve never seriously dated a man before, truth be told,” Pat confesses.

“Good to know,” Brian says, tracing a finger over Pat’s arm.

“You won’t be my first, though,” Pat says, half-teasing, with a crooked smile.

“Oh, that’s even better to know.”

“Yeah, no, I worked through my bullshit about getting fucked about, uh. Well, probably about two years ago,” he says, a little wryly. “It was a real disaster the first time. I have, uh, some particularities about how I like things to go, as it turns out, and also did you know that most condoms aren’t latex-free unless you get them specifically?”

Brian winces.

“Yeah. Not, uh. Not ideal.”

“What a trooper,” Brian teases, cupping Pat’s jaw in his hand, rubbing his thumb across his cheek. Pat hums and leans into the touch.

“Would you believe I still absolutely prefer to bottom, despite all that,” Pat says.

Brian laughs. “Oh god, baby, _yeah_ , I super would.”

“I’m actually a massive pain about it, though, I cannot personally put anything up my or anyone else’s ass without a condom or gloves or whatever and then I still have to wash my hands seven thousand times, I’m so fuckin’ weird about it for whatever reason, to the point where I genuinely don’t like to do it. Which sucks, because I love being on the receiving end of it, but what can you do, I guess.”

“That’s super reasonable,” Brian says. He keeps petting at him, touching him gently wherever he pleases. “That’s a good boundary to know. I’m perfectly comfortable with doing those things, so what if unless you specifically actively want to, what if we just make that my department? Then you never have to worry about it.”

“Really?” Pat says, close to astonished.

“Yeah, baby, of _course_. I’m into all of it. I’m totally a switch, but I’m super friggin’ bossy no matter which way you put it, and I love love _love_ to be a sweet doting top and give you everything your sweet little heart desires.” He kisses Pat’s chin.

“Where have you been all my life,” Pat sighs happily, and Brian actually giggles at that, ducks his head a little shyly. “Right here, apparently. Goddamn.”

“I like you so much, Pat Gill,” Brian says.

“I like you too,” Pat says, surprised, pleased, bewildered, grateful.

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Holy _shit_.”

“Sorry, was that too forward?” Brian says; he’s blushing.

“No — no, not at _all_ , just surprised — yes, Brian, absolutely, for sure. Once we’re done talking, I mean. Is there any more stuff you need to know about me? Or want to?”

Brian thinks about this. He snuggles closer to Pat and drapes his leg over Pat’s. “Lots of stuff, I think,” he says. “I’d love to know everything about you. I like you. I like listening to you talk, and learning things. You make me happy.”

The simple, clear, pure affection in Brian’s voice — it hits Pat hard in the chest, forcing away with its warmth some of the jagged edges of the dark hollow pit of lonely-sad-anxious-scared-desperate.

“Me too,” Pat says softly, “about you. I’ve talked plenty. What’s your backstory? Is there anything I should be knowing?”

Brian nuzzles his face against Pat’s shoulder. “I mean, you told me about your ex, seems fair for me to tell you ‘bout mine, too.”

“You don’t have to if —“

“Shh, I was teasing. I’ll lay my shit out for you, of course I will, I’d much rather put everything on the table and talk about it. It’s not like some deep dark secret or anything. We were in a long-distance relationship for, god, like four? — almost five? — years? Long time, though not as long as some people I could name,” Brian says, with a teasing little grin at Pat. “We sorta just — grew apart, eventually, which sucks, because I loved them lots. But I am intense. Which, there’s nothing wrong with that — we had a whole schedule I hashed out for calls and stuff, ‘cause we had a huge difference in time zones, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty sure that’s what kept it working as long as it did. I like to talk, I like to communicate, I like to, I dunno, send dumb tweets that made me think of my partner to them.”

“That’s cute,” Pat says.

“You’re cute. Basically what I’m saying is I talk a lot, which can seem, what’s the word, overbearing.”

“I don’t think you could even possibly be too overbearing for me, not in that way, not unless you’re, like, trying to control my life, which would be a whole ‘nother thing anyway.”

“Yeah, uh, no, definitely not. I’m just — y’know. Not compatible with everyone’s style of communication. Some people like their space more. It’s not like I’m over here demanding a reply to every dumb meme, or anything, I just — if something makes me think of you, I want to share it.”

“That’s really sweet,” Pat says quietly.

“Prepare for a zillion cat pictures, then, Pat Gill, you will never be free again.”

“That’s the ideal,” Pat says, wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist and pulling him closer, so he’s half on top of Pat. He’s warm, and the pressure of his body against Pat’s is intensely comforting in a way he can’t figure out quite exactly how to articulate.

“I wanna kiss you. Can I, please?” Brian says, and Pat nods. Brian scoots so he’s more over Pat and kisses him slow and sweet. He curls his fingers into Pat’s hair, not pulling this time, just present. It’s like someone flips a switch in Pat, though; he clings to Brian, and outright moans when Brian sucks his lower lip into his mouth.

“Oh, gosh, baby, you flatter me,” Brian murmurs against his lips.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry —”

“Don’t be sorry, especially not if it feels good. Do you want to pursue this right now, or do you still want to talk more?”

“I want to — just, uh — you got anything about anything that’s worth mentioning before we get into it?”

Brian considers for a moment. “Not really. I’m pretty much good with going with the flow. Don’t have a lot of things I don’t like. Is there anything else I should know, for you?”

“I pretty much covered the most important parts,” Pat says. “And I think you’ve figured out what I really like.”

Brian laughs. “Yeah, I got you, Pat,” he says, and lightly tugs at his hair where he still has his hand in it. Pat draws a breath and closes his eyes. “Oh, baby, you’re so fucking pretty. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Pat says, eyes still closed. “Whatever you wanna give, I want to take.”

“Tell me what you think of this,” Brian says pensively. “I’d like to take it real slow. Work you open with my fingers, see if you’ll beg for me; then I’ll fuck you real good, take my time with you, make you feel it. See how many of those pretty sounds I can get out of you.”

“God,” Pat breathes. “That sounds amazing.” A pause, hesitant. “I might — uh. There’s a fair chance I might cry again. I’m sorry for that. It didn’t used to be a thing that happens, but. It’s not — it’s not bad. It’s just — uh, it’s just when I’m overwhelmed, even if it’s in a really good way.”

“I understand, baby, no worries,” Brian says, and steals a quick kiss. “You’ll tell me if something does go bad?”

“‘Course,” Pat says.

“Can I take a guess at why it happens?”

“Sure. I mean, I could tell you, but I’m down to hear your hypothesis.”

“Oh, never mind then, I wanna hear it in your words.”

Pat acquiesces easily enough. “It’s not hard to figure out, I’m just real lonely and touch-starved,” he says with a shrug. “It’s like there’s a physical pain, right here in my chest,” he says, taking Brian’s hand and placing it over his sternum. “When you touch me — it makes it softer. Like there’s a chance that someday it might not ache like this. Like maybe once I get used to someone wanting to touch me, I might not fall apart when you do.”

“It’s okay if you do,” Brian says. “I’m here. I got you.” He presses his hand down flat at the center of Pat’s chest; Pat’s eyes flutter closed. “Pressure helps?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to lay on you and kiss you?”

“Yes _please_.”

They stay like that for a long time, trading slow languorous kisses, neither of them pushing forward for more until Brian cautiously slips his fingers under Pat’s shirt. Pat gives a full-body shiver and sighs, even at that most delicate, cautious touch.

“More?” Brian asks.

“Yes.”

“Here, sit up,” Brian says, as he does so himself to pull his shirt off. In the full light of day, he’s even more beautiful. Pat sits up, but before he takes his shirt off he can’t resist hugging him around the middle, resting the side of his face against his chest. Brian laughs and pets his hair; gosh, he can feel his laughter, his breathing, his heartbeat.

After a long moment he does move back and take off his own shirt, and lets Brian push him back down to kiss him again. He runs his hands over Brian’s back, traces his spine with his fingertips. God, it feels so good to be close to him like this. He can’t believe Brian’s letting him do this again, that he somehow didn’t scare him off already, that — _ohfuckyes_ , he gasps as Brian tugs on his hair to tilt his head back and get his mouth on Pat’s neck. 

“Babe, I regret to inform you, uh, you’ve got some wicked hickeys here,” Brian says wryly.

“I saw ‘em this morning, it’s fine. If you’re inclined to leave more, might as well take the opportunity now, ‘cause once they’re gone you won’t get to put them there again.”

“Mm. Noted,” Brian says, with a kiss to Pat’s jaw.

“Not to say I don’t like them. I love it, I’m super into it, I just — y’know. Work. Videos. Etcetera.”

“Hah, I gotcha. I’ll keep it to places you can hide easier in the future, I promise. Hey, just wondering, do you have lube and stuff or are we gonna have to, like, change venues to my place?”

“I do, I think,” Pat says. “Should be in one of the dresser drawers, do you want me to go look?”

“If you don’t mind. Figure it’s probably better to get all that situated before we get too into it,” Brian says, and lets him up. Pat takes a moment, when standing, to admire how incredibly fucking gorgeous Brian is. Brian notices him looking and preens a bit, tosses his hair and stretches his arms over his head and winks.

“You’re too hot for your own damn good,” Pat grumbles, with no real aggravation, as he turns away. Brian laughs.

“And just think, it’s all yours, baby,” Brian says. Pat pauses in his search and looks over his shoulder at him. “Don’t look so surprised, it’s _true_. You can touch me when-so-ever you would like. I _like_ you. I want you lots and I like it when you touch me and when you look at me and, like, when you exist. Oh my god, you’re blushing.”

“Don’t point it out!” Pat says, ducking his head to continue pawing through the drawer.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“No! No, it’s fine, I’m just. Flustered. It’s really sweet and I like you a lot too I’m just very not used to this that’s all,” he says in a rush. “Also I found it.”

“Good! Gimme,” Brian says, holding out his hands. Pat considers throwing it at him, decides he’ll probably hit him in the face if he attempts such a feat, and just goes back over to the dang bed. He wraps himself around Brian, rests his chin on his shoulder from behind. “Opinions on condom usage?” Brian says.

“Uh, generally speaking, favorable when I’m not allergic. A good invention on the whole. Mandatory if I’m putting my dick in anyone. A little annoying for fingering, gloves work better, but they’ll do. I suspect you’re actually asking me how I feel about them in this particular instance, which is, we might actually have to hit the pause button if you’d prefer to use one ‘cause I am, uh, out of stock. But, um. Definitely haven’t fucked anyone in like a year and my last test was like a month ago and I should be good to go without, if you are as well.”

“That works for me,” Brian says.

“I’m gonna make you leave and wash your hands, though.”

“Reasonable.” He twists his head to kiss Pat’s cheek. “You want to kiss more first or hop to it?”

“Mm. Not to sound horny, but —”

“— but you’re horny?”

“Shut up,” Pat sighs, but he’s trying not to laugh.

“Pants off, if you please, sweet thing,” Brian says, with another quick kiss.

The look on Brian’s face, when he rakes his eyes over Pat, is incredibly fucking flattering. He doesn’t say anything. He just smiles and leans down to kiss Pat’s inner thigh. They’ve both shed the remainder of their clothes, and Pat wants to touch him everywhere but also really, really wants him to do exactly what he’s about to do, so he settles back against the pillows and spreads his legs and, what the hell, gives Brian his best sultry look through his eyelashes.

“Beautiful,” Brian murmurs. He strokes his fingers over Pat’s thigh. “You ready, baby?”

“Yeah,” Pat says softly. Brian rests his cheek against Pat’s bent knee. He studies Pat’s face, so closely that he can feel himself blushing, for so long without moving that Pat thinks he’s just going to let him lay here like this all afternoon. But then he traces two fingers down the back of Pat’s thigh, the curve of his ass, explorative, gentle, taking his time before finally teasing at him with a fingertip. He’s right to have dawdled so much, to give Pat the chance to get used to being touched, because Pat is jumpy as hell but only just gasps at the sensation instead of his whole body twitching.

“Good boy,” Brian murmurs absentmindedly, and then pauses and blinks at himself, as though he’s caught his own self by surprise. “Uh. If you’re alright with that.”

“No stranger than anything else you’ve said to me,” Pat assures him. “Trust me, I’m good with that.”

“Okay, good. I just — some people really don’t like that —”

“Nah, it’s fine. I like it, even.” He shrugs, in a devoted attempt to play it casual, and adds, “It’s not like I called you daddy or something real freaky like that.”

Brian’s eyes widen just enough that Pat’s breath catches; it’s the same expression from last night, stunned but _approving_. “I mean,” Brian says slowly. “If that wasn’t totally a joke…”

“You know me too well, I can’t lie to you for shit,” Pat says, affecting gruffness.

“Sorry, babe, you’re also not sneaky. That was the least subtle thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” He tilts his head, looks at him. “Do you want to call me daddy?”

Pat feels his face go hot, all at once. He covers his eyes with a hand. “You can’t just _say_ it like that!”

“I definitely can. Okay, but, for real, you, uh. You for sure can, if you’d like to. But no pressure either way, today or ever, okay? I’m just saying. I’m into that, it’s on the table, feel free to do with that as you will.”

“Okay,” Pat breathes, in near-disbelief. 

“Look, it’s hot, what can I say? Also _love_ that subversion of expected roles. Good shit.”

“Oh, god, you _are_ younger than me, like a lot —”

“Shh. Doesn’t matter. You can be older and gruff and tall and scruffy and still like to get fucked and call your partner daddy. Just like I can be all gender-non-conforming-twink and like to be that partner. It’s good. I like it.”

“Do you prefer the term partner?” Pat says. “You’ve been using it pretty much exclusively.”

Brian shrugs. “I’m not any more or less attached to it than I am to boyfriend, and the latter has more of an immediate recognition as _yes this is my romantic partner_ , which I do like very much because I kinda selfishly want everyone to know you’re mine. That I’m yours. So you can use whichever you prefer. I’m just being gender-neutral about it ‘cause I don’t wanna assume the overarching gender identities of your previous partners, nor if you’ve ever considered any of them boyfriends or what-have-you.”

“That makes sense,” Pat says. “Good to know. Thank you." He can’t think of anything else intelligent to say, and so he says, “Are we, uh. Are we good to keep going?”

“Yeah! Yeah, absolutely,” Brian says. He leans down and kisses Pat, and as Pat sighs into the kiss and parts his lips, Brian keeps teasing at him, light touches of his fingers, just enough to make Pat react with sharp little gasps. When he pulls back, Pat reaches for him; Brian pats his cheek sympathetically. 

“I’m coming back, baby, hold your horses,” he says. Pat bites his lip and watches Brian, who moves with focused intention, who touches Pat gentle and cautious and sweet, who rests his chin on Pat’s knee and peeks at Pat’s face from beneath his eyelashes before he returns his attention to the main attraction.

It’s been a long goddamn time since someone put all their effort into making Pat feel good like this. Really, even when he was in a long-term relationship, they didn’t spend a lot of time in bed in this fashion, given the circumstances. So it’s a rarity, is what he’s saying; even the couple guys he’d managed to pick up who were the kind of sweet-considerate lovers Pat tends most to like, he never even worked up the nerve to talk to again.

So when Brian sets his mind to slowly, methodically, carefully take Pat apart like this, it is a lot to handle.

“How’s that feel?” Brian asks, moving inside Pat in a way that wrenches a moan from him. He gives a soft laugh. “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_.”

“Good. Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Brian presses a second finger into Pat as he kisses him slow and heated. Pat whines and spreads his thighs farther apart, plants his feet more firmly so he can arch up into the touch. Brian’s free hand pushes down on his hip, preventing him from doing so again, but to make up for it he sucks on Pat’s lip and gives an appreciative hum at the sound Pat makes. It’s almost painful, how sweet it is, how he thoroughly explores to find the ways that Pat likes to be touched and lean into them.

He’s sweaty and panting and desperate by the time Brian deems him ready to take a third finger; he’s all but begging by the time he tells Pat he’s going to go wash his hands and then fuck him, okay, baby?

Brian withdraws his fingers and Pat gasps, _ohfuckpleaseBrian_ , and Brian gets up and kisses Pat on the temple.

“I’m gonna be right back. Two minutes, tops. You just stay right there for me, pretty boy, alright? Promise I’ll be quick.” He steals another kiss and darts from the room.

It is an _agonizing_ wait. He hadn’t really been paying too much attention to his dick specifically, too busy being distracted by everything Brian was doing, but now that he’s left to himself it comes to his attention that he is maybe possibly perhaps more turned on than he’s ever been in his _life_ and he may actually die if Brian doesn’t hurry the fuck up and get back in here. He’s sure he looks a wreck; he drags his hands through his hair to get it off his sweaty face, keeps his hands there, tries to take deep breaths and get himself to chill out a little.

“Gosh, you’re so good,” Brian says, walking back into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. “You’re _lovely_.”

He doesn’t waste time, thank _god_ , though he does continue his persistent attitude of taking it really fucking slow. But that’s fine, that’s more than fine, because once he’s looking up at Brian, Brian with those focused hazel eyes, the concentrated expression, the gentle hands, he’s perfectly content to give himself over to him.

The thing is, the thing is that it feels so good that he can hardly stand it, that he has to tilt his head back and dig his nails into Brian’s shoulders and gasp and swear and let Brian kiss at him and bite at his neck.

“You’re doing so good, Pat, taking me so well,” Brian says, against the side of his neck, and Pat clings to him, latches onto the praise. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He stills, when he bottoms out, just to, apparently, listen to Pat’s ragged breathing. “Good boy. Look at you, you’re gorgeous.”

“ _Please_ ,” Pat begs, his voice rough, “please oh my _god_ Brian —”

“Okay, okay,” Brian says, with a teasing grin, and kisses him. He twists a hand into Pat’s hair and rocks his hips slowly. Pat moans against Brian’s mouth. He can feel the smug quirk of Brian’s lips when he does, but he does not have it in himself to be embarrassed, not even a little.

It is _remarkable_ , how those showy dance moves translate into perfectly controlled thrusts, into movements that are just as careful and calculated as if they were choreographed. It’s like he’s spent the slow buildup to this taking fucking notes on just exactly how he likes it. Which, to be fair, he probably has. He yanks on Pat’s hair in tandem as he snaps his hips forward and Pat whines. He presses hot, openmouthed kisses to Pat’s neck, his jaw, his mouth, and Pat lets him lets him _lets him_.

He could take anything, everything he wants and Pat would give it to him freely, willingly. He thinks he might be clinging to Brian too hard, that he might be leaving marks on his back with his fingernails, but he can’t put the brainpower together to stop doing it and anyway Brian isn’t complaining. Brian’s really doing the hard work here; he seemed pretty much perfectly composed when he came back into the bedroom, but now his hair is rumpled and his face is flushed and he’s breathing hard. It’s incredible. It’s even more incredible that he still has it in him to pull Pat’s hair and kiss his parted lips and say breathless lovely things and call Pat _baby_.

He’s so caught up in all this that he’s caught completely by surprise when Brian takes Pat’s cock in hand; he gives a sort of wordless shout and curls forward off the bed a bit, then falls back against the pillows and starts to apologize for the outburst but Brian shushes him.

“Be as loud as you want, baby, I love to hear you.”

“Okay — okay, _ah_ , yes, I — I’ll — _fuck_ ,” Pat stammers, as Brian _slooowly_ works his hand on Pat — how the _fuck_ does he have this much self-control, this much finesse? Pat is gasping for air like he's dying, and that’s pretty much all he’s capable of. He bucks up into Brian’s hand —

“Patience, baby boy, let me take care of you, okay? I got you, I’m gonna make sure you feel so good. I want you to just feel right now, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Pat manages.

“Good. You’re doing so good, baby, you’re incredible. Does it feel good?” He punctuates this with a particularly devastating movement of his hand on Pat’s cock.

“Yes, yes, god, yes, _please_ , please let me come, please please _please_ it feels so good — _fuck — Brian_ —”

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Brian says; his voice is strained now, breathy, as he finally gets close, as he works his hand on Pat faster and thrusts into him with earnest abandon.

 _Please yes fuck oh god oh fuck oh daddy_ please —

“Good boy, come on, come for daddy, you’re so beautiful, you’re perfect, come on baby boy —“

Pat throws his head back, lips parted against a wordless cry as he comes, as Brian pounds into him, arhythmic and desperate, as he drags his nails down Brian’s back as Brian fists a hand in Pat’s hair as Brian curses and gasps out his name, as all of this happens all at once, alongside the brilliant ache of pleasure burning through his very bones.

“You’re crying again,” Brian says fondly, thumbing at Pat’s cheek to wipe away an errant tear.

“Shut up,” Pat says, with no weight to it. He curls closer to Brian, pretending for the moment like he doesn’t have his own cum on him and if he gets it on the sheets he’s gonna have to change them _again_ because he is so fuckin’ neurotic about this shit. It’s definitely not the same shuddery desperate scared tears of the night before, though; it’s something closer to gratitude, relief, and as he catches his breath it’s far easier to compose himself again.

“How are you doing?” Brian asks, sliding an arm around him, infinitely tender.

“Good. Real good,” Pat says. The ache in his chest is still there — he’s honestly not sure if it’ll ever be gone — but it’s tolerable. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to split him open and devour him whole in pain and longing. It feels, more than anything, covered. Like an open pit that someone finally put something solid over. Like he doesn’t have to be afraid of falling into it, at least not right now. “That was. You’re. Wow.”

Brian kisses the corner of his mouth. “You too, gosh. Also. Did I call it or _what_ , baby boy.”

“Stop ruining the moment,” Pat whines. “Gloating doesn’t look good on anyone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I always look good.”

Pat gives the longest-suffering sigh that he can put on at the moment. “Yeah, you really do,” he says, and kisses him back.

“Let’s clean up and talk, okay?”

“Uh. Talk about what?” Pat says, anxiety immediately starting to chase the afterglow away.

“Oh! Nothing bad, baby, I promise, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I just think it’s good to check in after these things, especially with a new partner, see what worked and if anything didn’t work and all that.”

“Brian,” Pat says, and takes his face in his hands, “you are literally my favorite person in the world and I do not know how I got so lucky. How did you know my greatest weakness is thoroughly hashing all my shit out.”

Brian gives a nervous sort of giggle. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not,” he says.

“I’m not. Literally all I ever wanted is someone who, like, actively wants to talk about all this with me. I know I’m still figuring my shit out, and I really _really_ appreciate anyone who will let me talk through it.”

Brian positively beams. “Oh good, you have found the right boyfriend for that for sure! Come on, I’m sure you don’t want to lay around like this any longer.”

“But _moving_ ,” Pat complains.

“But ew,” Brian points out, already getting up. Pat pouts the best he can, which makes Brian laugh. Brian takes Pat’s hand and tugs at him until he finally concedes defeat and drags himself upright.

It’s a much more coherent scene in the bathroom this time, as Brian turns on the shower and leaves the curtain part of the way open so he can see Pat, even though he’s going to get water _everywhere_. Pat gives him space for a minute, in case he’d prefer to not have Pat all up on him for actual shower activities, loiters by the sink instead.

“C’mon, you don’t gotta just stand there if you wanna join me,” Brian says, and well okay then if he insists.

“Jesus, how do you stand the water this cold what the fuck,” Pat hisses, flailing for the knob as Brian laughs at him.

“I didn’t know if it was liable to run out fast or not,” Brian says, a little too solicitous to not be implying more canoodling in the shower than Pat was expecting, which is surprising though not unwelcome. He has no such manners like Pat, does not politely give him space to wash, and gets in the way of everything Pat tries to do so he can do it for him instead, which should be annoying but is actually surprisingly charming.

Brian presses himself into Pat’s arms, his arms draped low around Pat’s waist, absently stroking his fingers over the base of Pat’s spine. Pat hums and hugs him back, pushes his face into Brian’s hair.

“You doing okay?” Brian says, against Pat’s shoulder.

“Yeah. This is really nice. You alright?”

“Definitely,” Brian says. He tilts his head up to smile at Pat; rivulets of water trail from his hair down his forehead, his cheeks. He is so lovely. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” Pat says, because, well, obviously.

“I figured that much, silly,” Brian says affectionately. “I meant if you have any thoughts-feelings-opinions on anything that’s happened in, oh, I dunno, the past twenty-four hours or so.”

“Oh my god, it hasn’t even been a day,” Pat sighs. It feels like a _week_ has passed since last night.

“And you’re already calling me daddy, gosh,” Brian teases, and boops Pat on the nose. Pat huffs at him.

“You’re not sneaky, I know you’re trying to get me to discuss this,” Pat says.

“You said not five minutes ago that you were eager to!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not _embarrassed_.”

“ _No-oooo_ , don’t be embarrassed, it’s really cute, and also really hot, I like it! If it feels good, Pat, you don’t have to run away from it. You’re allowed to feel nice, and to do things that you like, and to let me take care of you. If that’s what you want, you can have it.” He strokes his fingers over the side of Pat’s face, tucks his wet hair behind his ear. “All you gotta do is say so.”

“I like it too,” Pat admits, although he can’t manage to meet Brian’s eyes. Brian keeps touching his face, the scruff of his beard, the arch of his eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, examining him with an artist’s eye. He seems to understand Pat, that he needs to be coaxed into saying these things with gentle touches, with guiding questions, or else he’ll never get the words out of his mouth. It’s so strange — he’d never have expected this from Brian, any of this, and yet now that it’s happened he can’t imagine it any other way. “I like it a lot. That was — you were — everything about that was, it was just perfect.”

“I’m so glad,” Brian says. He kisses Pat’s cheek. “I like figuring out what you like and seeing how I can make you feel good. Makes me happy, to see you happy.”

“You’re too nice to me,” Pat murmurs, and presses his lips to Brian’s forehead.

“Never. Impossible,” Brian says. “Tell me, baby, is it just a sex thing, or d’you like being fussed over in other ways too?”

“What do you mean,” Pat says cautiously. “I’m not — it’s not some, not some lifestyle thing, that’s not my scene.”

“Nah, that’s not really my thing either, necessarily. I’m just saying, like, I can be your daddy in bed and _also_ your daddy who cuddles you and showers you with affection and adoration after — oh my god Patrick don’t hide, _noooo_ , it’s alright if you want to say yes. It’s alright if you want to say no, too. But it’s okay to _want_. You’re allowed to say so, if you want to be the center of my attention and let me dote on you and — and if you don’t want that, that’s also totally okay, but I don’t want you to miss out on something you like just because you’re afraid of saying yes to it.”

“Wow, jeez, you don’t gotta call me out to outer space about it,” Pat grumbles, more flustered than annoyed, but pulls his face out of Brian’s shoulder and leans back against the shower wall to look at him. Brian looks placid, infinitely patient, like he won’t be hurt if Pat says no, like he won’t tease him if he says yes. He strokes his thumb over Pat’s bony hip and waits him out.

Pat sighs and tilts his head back and says to the ceiling, “Okay, yes, I would like that very much, I am an open goddamn book, apparently, you got me.”

“Are you upset?” Brian asks softly.

“No,” Pat sighs, and looks back at Brian. “No, just — not used to it.”

“I get that,” Brian says. “I know it can be hard to say these things outright, especially when it’s new. Does it help, with the sort of — leading into it?”

“Yes. A lot. I don’t think I would’ve been able to say anything about —” He waves a hand vaguely. “— y’know, if you hadn’t pressed the subject. I don’t care if you interrogate me, it’s important to know shit. I just have a hard time getting it out, sometimes.”

“That’s what I figured,” Brian says, kindly. “I got your number, Pat Gill.”

“Glad someone does,” Pat says, and tugs Brian back into a hug. “Oh, jeez, I did tear up your back a little, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Am I bleeding?” Brian asks, not urgently, not bothered.

“No, didn't break the skin or anything. Just looks like someone clawed at you a whole bunch while they were a little too worked up.”

“Hot.”

“Oh my _god_.”

“Just sayin’!” Brian tilts his chin up. “Kiss me?”

“Mm, I guess,” Pat teases, and obliges him. It’s nice, to be like this with him, to be petted at and kissed thoroughly and carefully cross-examined to make sure he’s okay, really though is he okay, you have to tell me if anything was bad, Patrick, I mean it, it's important!

Unsurprisingly, they dawdle long enough that the kisses turn more heated, that Brian’s hands slide to Pat’s lower back, his ass —

“Oh my god, Brian,” Pat sighs.

“Mm?” His fingers are getting very precariously close to —

“How the fuck are you still going?”

“Are you not?”

“If I come again I’m gonna dissolve into a pile of bones and it will be very tragic.”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s not. Please, feel free.”

Brian laughs as he presses two fingers into him, as he takes it with no effort at all, and Pat tilts his head back and groans.

“Oh _fu-uuck_ yes, yes please don’t stop.”

“M- _hmm_ , I thought so.”

“Fuck you,” Pat says, and Brian just laughs and curls his fingers in such a way that makes Pat whimper and rock against him. Brian kisses the side of his neck, his jaw, his collarbone, licks shower water off his skin.

The unfortunate fact of Pat’s shower, though, is that there is little forewarning for running out of hot water; it’s there, and then within a minute it goes from warm to cool to chilly to _oh god how is this not literally icicles_.

They unceremoniously rush out of the shower, laughing despite themselves, shaking off cold water at each other.

“It would’ve taken me fuckin’ forever to come anyway,” Pat concedes, as he hands over a towel to Brian.

“That’s okay,” Brian says, “that doesn’t have to be the point of it every time, y’know? Sometimes it’s nice to just do something that feels good for a little bit.”

“True enough,” Pat says. He pulls Brian in for a kiss; Brian is smiling, when they move apart.

“Hey, Pat. Hey, guess what,” Brian says.

“What.”

“I like you a whole lot.”

“That all?”

“Yeah.”

“I like you a whole lot too, babe,” Pat says, and leans forward to kiss Brian’s forehead. “Let’s go cuddle. And maybe figure out how the fuck we’re gonna tell people we’re dating now.”

“Ooh,” says Brian, with a wince. “Good point. Well, it was only a matter of time before we figured our shit out, I doubt anyone’s gonna be surprised.”

“Simone is gonna make so much fun of us,” Pat sighs, as they go back to his room.

“She likes me. She’ll make fun of _you_ , though.”

“Everyone shows their affection to me by dunking on me, goddammit.”

“ _Noooo_ , I won’t I promise,” Brian says, pushing the bedroom door closed behind them, tilting his head up to kiss Pat’s nose. “I’m crazy about you. Let me hold you?”

Pat flops on his bed and holds his arms out for Brian. Brian grins and all but tackles him, and holds him down to press giggly kisses all over his face, until Pat laughs too, until they’re thoroughly tangled up together, wrapped in the blankets and in each other’s arms, grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> how did i write the first fic and this one within 24 hours apiece. how am i doing this. why can't i finish any of the stuff ive had in my gdocs folder for weeks. i dont understand  
> shoutout to the twitter crew and the groupchat for directly inspiring parts of this. its all your fault
> 
> it's sort of obliquely referenced but brian is nb! obviously being gnc and nb are two different things but in this case... Both!  
> also pressure stims = the best kind and i will forever be TRAGICALLY SAD that i have asthma and no one can lay on me
> 
> @segmentcalled on twitter, lmk in a comment if you req! i have a handful of follow requests that are pending bc idk who they are so if you think that might be you, just let me know and i'll accept it! and of course i'll delete/not post any comments requested to be kept private, as per usual!


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